


got me on the ropes

by irishmizzy



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Incest, M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-24
Updated: 2010-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishmizzy/pseuds/irishmizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Land wars in Asia, games of chicken with Joe -- there are some things you will always lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got me on the ropes

**Author's Note:**

> This is is not true, no disrespect is intended, etc.

"Hey! Hey, watch!"

Nick looks up from his guitar just in time to see Joe fly past, a blur of white and flailing limbs as he cartwheels off the stage. He slides a little when he lands -- his shoes are too new to have any traction -- but with a little windmilling he manages to stay upright. He grins at Nick and shakes his head like he's trying to get the hair out of his eyes. But that's more out of habit than anything else -- his hair's all slicked back for the shoot and it'd take like a million cartwheels in a wind tunnel to knock it out place. The extras applaud his gymnastics; Nick rolls his eyes.

Almost immediately, one of the wardrobe assistants comes stalking up to Joe. She's carrying the jacket he's supposed to be wearing and frowning. Joe probably left it on the floor somewhere and the poor woman probably just spent ten minutes cleaning it. She holds it out to Joe and starts to say something Nick can't hear, but then Joe smiles at her -- the one he uses when he's about to get yelled at for playing with the sound equipment or whatever, the one that makes people who aren't related to him blush and forget what they were going to say. It works, too, because she hands Joe the jacket and winks at him and walks away without even angrily pointing her finger.

Joe hops back onto the stage, shrugging into the jacket as he strides toward Nick. He's got that "Did you see how much trouble I just avoided?" look. It's kind of his default look, when Nick thinks about it.

"Ladies love me, they can't help it," Joe says, slinging an arm across Nick's shoulders. "I'm irresistible."

Nick looks at him out of the side of his eyes. "Mom did always say you were special."

Joe's arm tightens around Nick, wrestling him into a headlock, and Nick braces himself for the noogie, because they've been having the same fight since they were little and it's always a noogie or a full-body tackle or someone sitting on someone else's chest until they cry for mercy. But Joe stops suddenly, like he just remembered where they are and how long it took to get Nick's hair like this this morning. Nick's bent at weird angle, his shoulder is digging into Joe's chest, the guitar awkwardly jack-knifing into the air between them. Sighing, Joe lets go and they both stand up. Joe watches as Nick takes off his guitar so he can straighten his jacket and pat his hair, making sure it's still somewhat under control. And then, just when Nick's convinced everything's still in place and he can go back to tuning his guitar, Joe reaches out and, with one swift tug, undoes Nick's bow tie.

Great. He has no idea how to retie this thing. Someone is definitely going to come and yell at him for this.

"That's just great, Joe," he says, glaring, because seriously, Joe gets away with this stuff all the time but someone is going to come and yell at him for dicking around and they're supposed to be acting like _professionals_ here.

Joe rolls his eyes. "Oh, come here," he says, tugging on Nick's sleeve to pull him forward. He bumps his knuckles against the underside of Nick's chin and Nick tilts his head up, closing his eyes against the glare of all the lights. Joe's hands keep brushing against his throat as he fiddles with the bow; Nick flinches every time he gets hit in the face by one of the ends of the bow tie. This is ridiculous. Joe has no idea what he's doing -- Joe's lucky he can tie his own shoes.

Joe leans in closer, like maybe if he gets super close he'll be able to read secret instructions printed on the fabric or something. His hair brushes against Nick's chin and it's all hairspray stiff and gross. Nick tries to lean away but Joe presses one hand against Nick's collar and says, "Hey, hold still." His breath is really warm against Nick's throat; all of a sudden Nick feels really hot and a little like he can't breathe. This is ridiculous.

"Ta-da!" Joe says, stepping away. He smiles and bounces on the balls of his feet like he's really proud of his work.

"That looks horrible," Kevin says, frowning over Joe's shoulder. Nick has no idea how long he's been standing there. "Like, really horrible." Joe punches him in the arm. "OW." Joe laughs and draws back to punch him again, but Kevin dodges away. Joe chases after him, leaving Nick standing there alone with a retardedly tied bow tie. He should find a mirror; maybe he can fix it. It can't be too hard, right? Joe figured out how to tie into SOMETHING, so maybe it's not impossible.

But before he can take two steps, someone's on it, telling him to look up, tying it efficiently. "Be careful," she says, straightening the knot.

He nods. "Sorry." She smiles and walks away and then Philip's calling everyone to places. Nick picks up his guitar and adjusts the strap. It takes a minute for Joe and Kevin to get back, breathless and laughing.

"Looking good, Nicholas," Joe says, winking.

"Sex-ay," Kevin says. Joe laughs and nods and Nick rolls his eyes, but he's laughing. They all are. Joe throws his arms around Nick and Kevin and pulls them into a quick hug and then they're rolling playback and everyone's still laughing when they pull apart, trying to get it together before Philip shouts action.

**

The worst part is how many breaks there are in filming, while they reset the cameras or fix Kevin's sweaty face or whatever. And plus there are like a million people are here filming behind the scenes stuff. He doesn't know what they're going to do with that -- so far it'll be a lot of lip syncing and people getting yelled at for messing up the dance. He keeps thinking that maybe they should be trying to do funnier things so they'll have enough to air, but he already introduced them to the whole band and there's not much else to do. Joe probably has some stuff in mind; he usually does. There's probably a dance-off in their future. The cameras will eat that up.

For now Nick's tooling around with the band -- Garbo's playing an awesome bass line and there's something in there that might be SOMETHING, Nick knows it, it's just out of reach, but the more he plays the closer he gets to it. Kevin comes over and adds more guitar and everything slowly slides into place and suddenly it's a lot less dicking around with the band and more something they should probably remember. Should definitely remember.

He smiles at Kevin, but Kev's too focused on what he's doing to pay any attention. Out of the corner of his eye Nick can see the Disney crew tracking something. He wonders if they're getting all this. It could be their exclusive sneak peak at the newest Jonas Brothers song. Oh god, they're probably wetting their pants with excitement. He watches the cameras watch them and then Joe's right over his shoulder, hanging all over him, singing a cracked out mash-up of "Paper Planes" and what sounds like "Mary Had A Little Lamb."

Nick tries to ignore Joe and stick to they beat they had before he showed up, but it's hard. And when Joe notices that Nick's off he turns it up a notch, leaning closer and singing nonsense right in Nick's ear. The more off-beat Nick gets, the louder Joe sings, until Nick steps on his foot and Joe's voice sort of cracks on "fleece." Nick smiles to himself.

Between verses, just as Nick's getting back on track, Joe leans in and nips at the curve of his ear. For a second, Nick's fingers stop working. He fucks up a chord and completely misses the three that come after it and Kevin gives him a weird look like, "What the hell?" Joe moves to Kevin, leaning in and singing about the lamb becoming a rock star while Nick tries to recover.

**

The thing is that when Joe gets something in his mind, he gets stuck on it. Like a homing missile, almost, and no matter how many times you dodge out of his way he's right there on your back, bearing down on you.

Nick should have realized something was up this morning, when Joe had walked up to him with his shirt half done-up and that look in his eyes that Nick hadn't seen since they were on tour. Nick hadn't realized what it meant then. He'd assumed that it was just Joe getting excited, gearing himself up for the day, even when he'd stood like a breath away from Nick and said, "I am going to _own you_ today, Nicky" and Nick had stopped buttoning his pants and looked directly at Joe when he said, "Yeah? I'd like to see you try," and Joe had smiled this slow, lazy grin and oh god, that was the beginning of the end, that grin. How had Nick not recognized it? Past Him is such an _idiot_ sometimes.

See, the thing was that on tour they were always together. Literally, always. And, you know, things... happened. And when the tour ended it was kind of silently decided that everything else would end too. It was like a Vegas thing -- what happened on tour stayed on tour. Except you can't just forget however many months of your life, at least not without significant brain trauma, so now they're doing this thing where they're constantly invading each other's space and kissing each other on the neck and wrestling and it's not that they didn't do that stuff before, it's just that it's _different_ now. Like, suggestive or something. He doesn't know how to explain it, really. It's like they're trying to one-up each other until someone slips back into tour-mode. Like a game of chicken, except instead of driving it's... physical contact.

This morning he'd assumed it was just Joe being Joe, saying crazy things to get them both psyched up for the shoot. But he should have been paying more attention, because without even realizing it he'd taken the bait. Joe had challenged him and not only had he accepted the challenge, but he'd stupidly raised the stakes and now Joe's going balls to the wall, biting Nick's ear and making up excuses to touch him in public, because Joe's _thisclose_ to cracking, and since it's Joe and he hates to lose, he's turning all his energy into breaking Nick first.

It's not that Nick's complaining. This day was like the definition of inevitable. It's just that Joe could not have picked a worse day, because they're stuck in a room full of people and cameras and period costumes from now until eternity and the only thing Nick can think about is the grin on Joe's stupid face after he bit Nick's ear.

**

Philip's describing what he wants the cameras to do, pointing at Nick on stage and then at Camilla on the floor, swirling his hands around like a tornado. If that means what Nick thinks it means, this video's going to end up looking pretty amazing.

"Nick! Nick!" someone calls. He looks up and there's a photog there, waiting for him to smile. He gives them a thumbs up and blinks after the flash. It's so freaking bright in here. Hot, too. He feels like he's going to lose his mind. He's trying not to think about the Joe thing, because maybe he's completely wrong, maybe there is no Joe thing and he's just imagining it all. He should eat something; that might help.

He takes his jacket off and carefully hangs it on one of the band's music stands. It should be fairly safe there, he figures. At least no one will step on it. Someone stepped on Joe's jacket earlier and everyone in the room had gotten yelled at. Over a megaphone. It pretty much sucked. Nick makes his way to the side of the room, skirting all the couples practicing the waltz. Behind the wall of cameras there's a table of food set up with way too many options. He stares at everything and makes a face. Does he want an apple? Crackers? Ugh, non-specific hunger is the worst.

His back is to the room and he's trying to choose between carrots or grapes when someone snaps his suspenders. Hard. He jumps and turns around and there's Joe, wearing bug-eyed sunglasses. They're not neon, so clearly they're not Joe's; he probably mooched them off one of the stylists. Nick's going to have to make sure he remembers to give them back.

"Jonas. Joe Jonas," he says, taking the glasses off and leaning into Nick's personal space.

"I'm still better at it," Nick says, leaning away. The table stops him from leaning too far. Joe bites the tip of one of the arms of the glasses and leans even closer. All Nick can see is Joe's stupid pink tongue and for a second he forgets that he's pinned against the craft services table and in _public_ and oh god, okay. Right. Eating something. STAT.

"Get away from me, weirdo" he says, shoving at Joe until he leans back and Nick feels like he can breathe again. Joe's acting like everything's normal but his breathing's off and Nick can see the flush creeping up his neck. So at least Nick's not imagining it.

"Did you eat?"

"I don't know what I want." Nick turns around and looks at the table again. Joe rests his chin on Nick's shoulder and looks at the table, too, his hands resting on Nick's shoulders.

"I know what you're trying to do," Nick says quietly.

"I'm not trying to do anything. Well, except for trying to make sure you eat something so you don't slip into a coma and DIE."

"Okay." Nick says, reaching for a handful of carrot sticks. "Whatever you say, Joe."

"Damn straight." Joe nods and Nick can feel the slide of Joe's cheek against his own.

**

The dance floor's been cleared so they can sweep up the petals. At the first mention of a break, everyone had scattered, and now the room's mostly empty. Nick had all but wrestled Jack for a shot at the drums, and last he'd seen, Joe was making funny faces for the photographers. But now Nick's bored and Kevin's in the corner, talking on the phone, and Joe's gone. So's the photographer, though, so at least there's that.

Nick spins on his stool and drums his hands on his thighs. Annoyed when Joe's around, bored when he's not -- it's the story of his life. He gets up and wanders away, his hands shoved in his pockets. If he wanders aimlessly long enough odds are someone will start fixing his hair or his makeup or something.

"NINJA" Joe yells, just before he hurls himself onto Nick's back. They go sliding into the wall, throwing elbows and landing half-assed punches that are more for effect than anything else. Joe's got one arm wrapped around Nick's neck and both legs around his waist, trying to hold on while Nick twists, trying to throw him off. Joe's got one hand under the lapel of Nick's jacket, anchoring himself with a death-grip on Nick's suspenders. The only advantage Nick has in this fight is that both his feet are on the ground; he's pretty much fighting a losing battle. Joe punches him, yelling, "DEAD ARM," right in his ear so that Nick's both temporarily deaf and his arm hurts like an effer. They wrestle for a few minutes and they're laughing hysterically until Joe uses his one free hand to grope Nick through his pants. It lasts longer -- a lot longer -- than it it should if this were just a stupid wrestling match. He's acutely aware of Joe's hand, Joe's legs, Joe's breath hot on his neck. For a second, Nick feels like the floor's dropped out from under him.

"Dirty move, Joe, that is DIRTY MOVE," he says, probably louder than necessary. Definitely louder than necessary. Grunting, he torques his entire upper body and pulls at Joe's arm. Joe makes a squawking noise when he finally loses his grip and slips to the floor.

Joe's on the floor, laughing crazily. Nick's trying to figure out if anyone's paying attention to them. They're both breathing heavy. Camilla walks by and stops and smiles at him; there's a rose petal stuck to her hair.

"You feeling okay?' she asks. "You look a little, I don't know," she waves her hand in the air, "woozy."

"Yeah," Nick says. His voice sounds weird; high-pitched and shaky. He coughs a little to clear his throat. "Yeah. We're good. You, uh -- you have a petal." He gestures at his head and she copies him, sliding her hand along her hair until she hits the petal.

"Thanks," she says, laughing. "I think this is going to turn out really great."

 

"I hope so."

"Hope? Please," Joe says, using Nick's pants as leverage to pull himself to his feet. He slides an arm around Nick's waist, pulling him tight against his side. "He means he KNOWS so."

Camilla's still laughing at Joe when Kevin walks up behind them. "Jeez, Joe, can't you just leave the jacket on?" he asks.

"How do you know I took it off?"

"There's a footprint on the back of it."

"You KICKED me?" Joe says incredulously, crossing his arms and glaring at Nick. Kevin rolls his eyes.

"I didn't kick you," Nick says as he leans back to see the alleged footprint. Yup, there it is, a big 'ole dusty footprint. At least it's not dirt. They'll be able to get it all off with a lint roller. Hopefully. "Maybe I accidentally _stepped on_ you," he admits. He swipes at the spot, more smacking Joe than cleaning the footprint.

"OW. Quit it." Joe shoves him with one arm and then turns so Kevin will fix it for him.

**

"Cut!"

Nick takes a step back and wipes his hand across the back of his neck. His scalp itches. It's like that time he let Joe and Kevin flat iron his hair. Well, "let" isn't really the right word; it was more "Kevin sat on him while Joe held hot metal near his head and threatened to burn his ears off if he moved," but whatever. The end result was still that all the gunk they put in his hair made his head itch, except now he can't touch it to make it stop. He scratches the back of his neck instead.

Nearby, Joe's getting attacked by a stream of hairspray. All the thrashing around's making it fall out of place and they keep trying to get his bangs to stop his bangs from falling into his face. It's a losing battle. Eventually she gives up and leaves him alone, moves on to Kevin. Joe opens his eyes and catches Nick staring; he smiles and straightens his tie.

"You just made it more crooked," Nick says, moving towards him.

"Still looks better than yours." With both hands, Joe tugs gently on Nick's bow tie, tightening it or making it worse, doing something that Nick can't see. The whole time Joe's watching Nick, not what his hands are doing. Nick's mouth is very dry all of a sudden. When he's done, Joe slides his hands down Nick's chest and straightens his lapels before he takes a step back, half-smiling.

Nick follows him, takes a step forward so he can mimic all Joe's actions, straightening Joe's tie, his lapels. "I could really go for a cheeseburger," Joe says. His voice is too loud, like he's trying to pretend everything's normal. Nick bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. "I bet if we asked, they'd get us some burgers. Do you think -- "

"You're going to lose, Joseph."

Joe stops talking. He grins and for a second Nick worries that he just forfeited. That he just walked right into Joe's trap. "I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

Nick curls a hand around Joe's neck; his fingernails scratch lightly and goosebumps prickle up in their wake. Their heads are close together, foreheads almost touching, like before they do a show. "I think you do," he says, his voice low and they're close enough that he can see when Joe blushes from his neck to the tips of his ears and the glazed-over look he gets in his eyes. Nick kind of raises his eyebrows in a silent challenge; Joe swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing. In the background, Nick can hear Christian yelling at everyone to get in position and someone else yelling, "HOLD THE FUCKING ROSE PETALS." Nick lets go of Joe's neck and steps away, hitching his guitar up as he moves to his spot. Joe reaches for the microphone and misses completely, grabbing the air and cracking everyone up.

"Stop goofing around, Joe," Philip says. "Alright, everybody, let's go."

**

The constant stopping and starting is driving Nick insane; there's no time to get into a groove, and everything is so staged and Philip keeps stopping every time Joe leans too far into Nick's space, which is pretty much every five seconds, and it's just -- it's weird. He knows the video'll come out good, but he's officially reached the point where he just wants to be done with it already. He'd just rather be playing a concert or walking Elvis or something. Playing Halo. Whatever. Anywhere that's not right here, right now.

He thinks Philip can sense everyone's frustration, or maybe he's just fed up with yelling at Joe for being in Nick's shot, because he tells everyone to take fifteen. They have to sweep up the petals again, so they would've gotten a break anyway, but Nick's glad for it either way. He puts his guitar down and catches Joe's eye before he walks away, hoping Joe will follow him. He ends up leaning against the wall in the hallway that leads to their dressing room, fiddling with his watch, sliding the band undone and bending the leather into weird shapes. So far there's no Joe in sight. He refuses to go look for him, because looking for Joe would be like forfeiting, and Nick is not going to cave first. Waiting for Joe to find him is not caving. Those are the unspoken rules of this this stupid game they play, that they've been playing ever since the tour ended. They're trapped in this silent game of chicken and at this point the only think Nick knows for sure is that they're both desperately trying to outlast each other.

Someone yells something over the bullhorn, but all Nick can hear is a garbled Charlie-Brown-teacher voice. He checks his watch; it's been kind of a while. Joe's clearly not following him, the jerkface. Oh, great, and there's the irrational anger -- if getting Nick riled up is part of Joe's plan, at least it's working. Nick sighs, trying to calm himself down. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and walks back into the ballroom.

He finds him talking to Camilla and Kevin. "Hey guys," he says, sliding in between Kevin and Joe.

"Hey buddy," Kevin says. Camilla smiles. So does Joe, right before he tugs at Nick's bow tie, undoing it. Nick clenches his jaw and glares at Joe. He bends his knee to kick him in the shin, hard, but then realizes wardrobe would probably murder him for dirtying another article of Joe's clothing. He puts his foot back on the floor and settles for glaring at Joe, who grins at him.

"I can fix it," Joe says, moving towards Nick, but then a professional is swooping in, shooing Joe out of the way, shaking her head and clucking her tongue disapprovingly while Camilla and Joe and Kevin all laugh.

**

Towards the end of the shoot they get pulled out to film a bunch of intros for the different crews, the same script over and over, introducing themselves to E! News and Extra and every other entertainment show under the sun. They're standing three across, Nick in the middle like usual, and Joe must get bored quicker than normal today because thirty seconds into the first clip he's doing things like pinching Nick, touching the back of his neck, putting his arm around him. It's all really minor stuff. No one even says anything until the fifth round when he accidentally pinches Kevin.

"That's ME, dumbass," Kevin hisses. "And also, cut it out."

The guy in charge of it -- the Extra guy, Nick thinks -- frowns. Maybe they've been fidgeting longer than Nick realized. "Maybe you two should stand in front," he says, pointing at Kevin and Joe, "and then Nick can stand back, just a little. Yeah, tiered, like that. And Kevin, why don't you say this?" He holds out a piece of paper.

Kevin steps forward to get his lines and Nick turns to face Joe. "Stop it," he hisses. Joe reaches out to pinch him or poke him or unbutton his coat or something but Nick slaps his hand away. It escalates into minor punching fight until Kevin walks back toward them. He's making that face like he wants to smack them both upside the head; he punches them both in the arm instead. Nick and Joe punch him back and then the cameraman clears his throat. All three of them look up guiltily.

"Sorry," they mumble in unison.

The cameraman shakes his head and sighs. "Ready?" They all nod and he starts counting down from five.

At "three," Nick pinches Joe's butt; Joe elbows him in the gut in retaliation, right before he says, "Hi! I'm Joe," in his ridiculous nerd voice and Nick completely loses it. His whole body sags into Joe while he laughs hysterically. Growing up, their mom always used to say that Nick was Joe's best audience. She still says it, because no matter what Joe does, Nick is the first one laughing. They feed into each other in the greatest, most horrible way. Like now, and how Nick's laughing like Joe's routine is the funniest thing he's ever heard, egging Joe on until he's doing his forty-five minute "I'm allergic to flowers-ocean water-banana peels" spiel and everyone, even the cameraman, is laughing.

**

The last take is so amazing and the thing with the rose petals is so freaking awesome that Nick kind of wants to do it again. Kind of. He's mostly ready to be done. Philip tells them they're done, that they can bounce or stick around and watch the dancers do.... something. Nick doesn't know, he stopped listening the second Philip said he could leave. He tries to shake everyone's hand, thanks them all for their work, says he's looking forward to seeing them on the boat bright and early tomorrow morning. It's mostly the truth. He is really excited about the shoot tomorrow, and they're not dropping anything from the sky so they have to worry about the weather cooperating and not, you know, repetitive clean-up.

When he's done making the rounds he turns around and Joe's right there, like some creepy shadow.

"I cannot be in this for five more seconds," he says, making choking noises and tugging at his collar. His bow tie and top two buttons are already undone. "Come on, let's go." He wraps his hand around Nick's wrist and tugs, leading Nick out of the ballroom and away from all the people. It gets quieter as they walk further down the hallway, kind of like a less intense version of leaving the stage after a show. Everything's echoing in his ears and there's an underlying distant ringing. Joe's still holding his wrist, the pad of his thumb swiping back and forth over Nick's pulse.

Inside the dressing room it's weirdly silent, the two of them and racks of clothes and not much else. A couch. A lamp. He briefly wonders what this room's normally used for. There aren't even any windows. And it's really tiny, like the size of Joe and Kevin's old room in Jersey.

"Where's Kevin?" Nick asks. His voice sounds so loud.

Joe shrugs. "Said he wanted to stick around, watch them get the rest of the shots."

"Really?"

"Yup." They both stand there nodding like a couple of bobbleheads. Someone probably makes bobblehead Jonases. That's kind of creepy, when he thinks about it. Joe would probably want the whole set of them for Christmas. Nick laughs, picturing Joe driving around with a bobblehead of himself glued to the dash.

"What?" Joe says. He gets this mildly annoyed look when Nick shakes his head. "Tell me," he says, shoving Nick playfully.

"Nothing!" He pulls away and shrugs out of his jacket. He hangs it up on the rack on the other side of the room, and then starts undoing his cuff links and the bajillion buttons on his shirt, trying to find where they put his real clothes so he get changed. He can feel Joe watching him. "What?" he says, even though he knows full well what.

"Nothing," Joe says, his palms up, all wide-eyed and fake-innocent. He grins and sings a little "bow chicka wow wow" fake porno music while he slides his suspenders down his shoulders and undoes his pants, stepping out of everything at once. Nick laughs and rolls his eyes at the same time before he turns around and hangs up his shirt.

Nick's partially redressed, boxers and a t-shirt on, but Joe's there in just his boxers when he comes and stands really close to Nick. He suddenly feels very claustrophobic. "On a scale of one to ten, this video is going to be like a forty-amazing," Joe says, tugging on Nick's hair for emphasis.

"Forty-amazing," Nick agrees, nodding and laughing. Joe let's his hand slide down until it's resting on Nick's shoulder, his thumb tapping lightly on his collarbone.

Nick's hyper-aware of every single thing -- Joe's thumb, Joe's tongue when licks his lips, the way his eyes flicker down to Nick's lips and then back up. The lack of space between them and the way Nick's whole body's thrumming like it does in that pitch-black moment right before they start a show. Joe licks his lips again and it's like one of those things that happens in slow-motion. Nick leans in -- he knows he leans in first, which means Joe wins, and even as he does it he thinks _fuck it_ and maybe he even says it out loud, because Joe laughs a little before Nick's swallowing the vibrations in a kiss, pressing forward, pinning Joe against the wall. And then everything slams into super-speed and it's all a blur of lips and tongue and teeth and Joe's hands on his shoulders, hips, in his hair; it was never this frantic on tour.

"Joe," he says, pulling away, breathing heavily. It's a lot. Joe lets his head fall back; it hits the wall with a dull thud. There's a second where they both stand there, breathing, and then Joe reaches up and curls a hand around the back of Nick's neck, pulling him in. It's less frenetic, like maybe they got the crazy part out of their systems and now they can relax, but then it speeds up again and Joe's kissing him harder, pressing Nick backwards with his free hand, pushing him toward the couch.

His hands slide under Nick's shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and then Joe's pushing it up, trying to get the shirt off, laughing when Nick gets tangled in the sleeves.

"Ow," Nick says, punching Joe in the shoulder. Joe ignores him in favor of pushing him back onto the couch, pushing him all the way back until he's lying down and Joe's kneeling over him, straddling his hips and and grinning like a fool. Nick just wants him closer. He almost wishes Joe were wearing a shirt, something he could grab and use to pull Joe down towards him. He slides his hands up Joe's sides instead, from his hips to his chest, nails scratching lightly the whole way. That's all it takes for Joe to get the hint, and Joe's leaning down, kissing him again, pressing him down into the couch. Nick groans, his hips bucking, and Joe's thrust down in counterpoint, like some ridiculous call and response. They grapple for a minute, hips thrusting, their teeth clacking and their hands grasping for purchase. There's a point where Nick thinks one of them is going to fall right off the couch but then they get the rhythm of it, the thrust and roll of their hips and it's like they never stopped doing this. Nick hopes they never stop again.

Joe reaches down and Nick bites his lip to keep from making any noise. A strangled moan escapes anyway and Joe laughs and grinds his hips down harder, tries to see if he can make Nick do it again. His mouth is pressed against Nick's skin, all hot and wet and it's like Nick's seeing freaking stars here, the everything of it too much to process. It's all sweat and skin and friction and Joe's mouth on the curve of his jaw, his neck while he says, "Oh god, _Nick_," again and again. Nick feels like he's spiraling out of control, moving against Joe like this. He cups the back of Joe's head in his hand, pressing his skull with his fingertips, and then he's arching into Joe, coming with a long, low groan. Joe comes right after he does, whispering Nick's name into the curve of his neck.

After, Joe kind of collapses half on top of him, half on the couch, and they lie there, both completely boneless, trying to catch their breath. The room feels like it's spinning, a little.

"I win," Joe says, once their breathing's normal again. His face is still pressed against Nick's neck, so his voice comes out all muffled and weird.

Nick scoffs even though it requires like ninety times more energy than he has right now. He wonders if there's enough time for him to take a nap right here. "'Yeah, well, you're a cheater," he says, lightly smacking Joe between his shoulder blades. The couch is starting to stick to his back, and Joe to his front. They really need to get up. "We should... you know," he says after a minute. Joe nods. He drums a random beat on Nick's hipbone, but he doesn't make any effort to move.


End file.
